Musings, reflections, wisecracks from a somewhat creative mind

Archive for the ‘Poodles’ Category

The Many Hats of Kitteh

Now at 4½ months, Gracie Lou is discovering (or revealing) her many talents, abilities and, yes, jobs. She’s practicing for a career in something. I’m not sure what. Some possibilities:

A career in home décor – She appears very motivated. I’m not sure she’ll go very far with this since she seems to like most things on the floor. For example, kitteh décor dictates that towels do not belong on towel racks: they belong on the floor. Other “floor should be’s”: pillows, eyeglasses, phones, magazines and hairbrushes. Also, contrary to what I thought I knew, window blind slats do not need to align and pet toys SHOULD litter the floor, the location changed often and without warning. As she matures a better career move for Gracie might be to move toward window treatments and, hopefully, away from this “floor thing”.

Massage therapist – I believe the instructions to other kittehs would read “While the subject lies facedown, walk up the subject – from foot to neck and head – gently extending the claws so as not to injure but certainly to hurt a bit and annoy. The subject comes awake very quickly after this procedure.”

This won't hurt a bit ...

House cleaner – I only mention this potential career because kitteh is adept at finding dust bunnies. Her follow through is poor. She does not throw them away. Perhaps she needs a small dustpan with a tiny wastebasket.

 

Just a cute shot.

Dog herder – This requires the saintly cooperation of Chloe, the perfect dog. Gracie accomplishes dog herding by utilizing her kitteh claws and teeth, wrapping her kitteh “arms” around Chloe’s leg and gnawing on it. Chloe moves the leg. Kitteh persists. And so on. Kitteh becomes very enthusiastic about this at times which requires my intervention because Chloe gives me the “Make! It! Stop!” look.

Athlete / Gymnast – This is hardly unusual for a kitteh but I must mention it. Among her best feats: climbing a bare wall.

Magician – Kitteh is especially good at the disappearing and reappearing act where you are looking for her frantically because you are afraid she somehow escaped the house. She must be in “thin air” because I can’t find where she hides.

These aren’t her only career choices but they certainly are “the big six”. Stay tuned.

Things Kittehs Play With

First – the cutest thing: I woke up one morning with my 9 week old kitteh sleeping on the back of my neck, IN my hair, and happily. She may have been purring. It was altogether a lovely experience.

Things kittehs play with

And now, other things kitteh loves to play with:

  • rubber bands (broken)
  • hair bands/ties
  • tin foil balls
  • pipe cleaners (lots of fun to watch, too)
  • little bows
  • dust bunnies (not that they are plentiful in my house)
  • anyone’s fingers
  • my toes (biting, ouch)
  • towels on racks that apparently should be on the floor
  • bags – any variety
  • the air – a pretend friend (i. e. nothing visible – cute!)
  • her tail and back paws
  • hand bags and contents
  • sunglass earpieces (tasty!)
  • Chloe, the perfect dog
  • just about anything else she encounters.

No cost/low cost entertainment for kitty. Yay!

So. You’ve figured out I’ve adopted one of the four kittens that I had fostered.

Well what was I to do? She GAZED at me! She followed me around. She seemed to think I was a goddess.

Aw shucks.

I have given her many names – the root name is Grace. That is because, a) a friend suggested “Gracie Lou Freebush” from that movie and, b) … she, the kitten, reminds me very VERY much of Grace … Grace from God. She’s such a gift. Lovely.

Gracie Lou. Gracie Love. Gracie Belly (for her round kitten belly) …

Last but not least, she and Chloe get along wonderfully.

Many pictures to follow!

Schweet kittehs

So the kittehs are not all bad, you know. A friend today remarked at how I had been referring to “the kittens” as pests, homewreckers, a nuisance … He kindly didn’t use those words yet it is true. He was not mistaken. So let me set the record straight.

It’s my humor which misleads. It is my way of blogging – usually. My thoughts are also true. But this is not all.

The kittehs are precious and sweet and they make me joyful MUCH more than they make me anything else. The are a privilege to care for.

(They are also going to be gone by this weekend if I’m to host the houseguests I intend to host next weekend. No kitten wants to be squashed underfoot and no human wants to smell litterbox.)

So here, therefore, are some phrases and vignettes:

  • The other evening as I left them for the bedroom, each one in turn came to me for a scratch and a smooch.
  • Pepe has sat on my shoulder and purred into my ear. (DARling.)
  • Spot follows me around the house.
  • One of them reaches for me under the door in the morning.
  • They all trust and seek out Chloe.

And so here, therefore, are some photos of the little ankle biters in their most angelic aspects.

My Dog’s Profession

Chloe, the Standard Poodle and perfect dog, has a burgeoning career in her future- that of Professional Obstacle. She is terribly good at being in the way. It seems to be an innate talent and one she practices on a daily basis. Therefore I think she could make a lot of money, if we can just tap the right market.

First, a “guest post” from Chloe, as follows:

How I do it

By Chloe Louise Sault

First, let’s understand the assumption. Tripping a human is a good thing. It establishes our “dogness” and it is amusing.

Lying in the middle of the floor of any room is a sure thing. Spreading out – legs, head, tail, and if I am feeling particularly sarcastic, tongue – assures high potential for tripping a human. If a human does not notice me lying there – as my grandmother did not notice a few months back – they will trip and fall. Goal! I mitigate any negative reaction towards me by not moving and looking innocent and cute.

Lying in a doorway is best used when the humans are moving about from room to room and generally being unpredictable. Stationing myself in a doorway has an added benefit as it enables my ability to monitor the human’s activities.

An important caveat for the novice – when the human is attempting to step over you, don’t move. Doing so could risk damage to the face and head when the human’s foot rapidly connects with said body parts. However DO take the risk if you really want the human to fall. You see, as they try to correct their trajectory they lose balance rather easily resulting in “the fall”. Any damage they do to you they will take care of medically and financially. Guilt is usually an outcome as well. Treats often follow guilt.

Preceding the human through the house or yard or sidewalk is good for frustrating the human and CAN result in a fall, but not usually. Mostly it results in the human yelling and cussing and the poodle being pushed, shoved or otherwise rudely moved by the human. It is not necessarily recommended. However it can be satisfying in a rather evil way.

While the human is exercising, place your soggy chin and wet, slimy and cold nose in their hand when they least expect it. It usually results in a chin rub, which is very nice. It may also result in surprising the human who then pulls a muscle, usually in the back, causing temporary pain and yelling and cussing. It is fun to watch and harmless for you.

To sum up: Us dogs can have great fun tormenting and torturing our humans while appearing to be affectionate and innocent. Take advantage. We have so little recompense for our affable selves (no pockets, no thumbs, no cars … need I say more).

Signed: Chloe Louise Sault, P.O.

OK! It's not a poodle. But who cares - it's funny!

Back to Mama

My Chloe lacks imagination. The “hit man” market craves such genius. I think the Cosa Nostra should take notice. Our prices are fair. Please be discreet in your inquiries. We need cash money. Pony up, people.

I loved my Amber-poodle

Letting you all know (because I suspect you’d want to know) – I’ve had to send my darling and brave Amber-girl to heaven. I’ll not distinguish between human and doggie heaven, partly because I’d like to end up in both.
She was a 17 years-old, still gorgeous, still noble … an insolent 12 pound, fluffy and curly-white bundle of dog. I believe she could have tamed lions, given the chance. In the 70’s, Helen Reddy would’ve been proud. Amber was a true feminist.
Aging: Most of us will end up in a place with which we are not familiar. That place is indistinct, confusing, frustrating, frightening … because we are unable to recognize it and process it due to our failing vision and hearing, thought processes, ability to move comfortably, and probably more that I can’t know at my tender age.
I finally realized Amber was THERE. Standing, swaying, and staring at the wall without a purpose is not dignified. Amber was, if anything, dignified – and defiant – during her life. The Vet agreed. We wanted to give her a Viking funeral.
We gave her what we could – a shot in the “arm” and a loving farewell.
Amber will remain a legend in my memory. She was … a true Princess.

HRH Princess Amber

Dogs and owners – look alike? Nah.

Not long ago someone told me my dog, Chloe, and I looked similar. I think he meant the curly, blondish hair thing. Here are photos to compare – taken this morning – fed and caffeinated but unbrushed:

Unbrushed Poodle Mama

June 11, 2011 Unbrushed Poodle Chloe

Unbrushed Poodle Chloe (the perfect dog)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For starters, Chloe doesn’t wear glasses. While she has beautiful, loving eyes, they are brown, not green, like mine.

Her nose is much bigger although she sports just the one chin, which is a plus.

Our lips are utterly different – being that I have them and she doesn’t really.

Overall, I think Chloe is rather more stylish looking and knows how to strike a pose. And while some have told me I’m pretty, everyone says Chloe is beautiful.

Other comparisons could include:

We both have to carry our licenses with us – her method (the collar method) is more efficient than a wallet. Of course, she doesn’t have pockets so how would she carry a wallet?

I don’t lay around on the floor all the time. That would be silly. Dogs can be silly all the time if they want to. Both Chloe and I have trouble getting up from the floor – an odd similarity.

I don’t feel the need to sniff the perimeter of my yard. Apparently Chloe does, at great length.

I do NOT put my chin on a lap when I want attention/affection. (Bet it would work, though.)

Chloe has a great advantage with the “I’m-going-to-stare-at-you-until-I-get-what-I-want” thing. She’s raised that skill to an art form.

Speaking of … gotta go. Chloe “wants something”.

A Dog Never Lies About Love

What can one say about a dog like Max?

  • He was first and foremost utterly devoted to me. He jumped into my arms the first time we met. (He was 6 years-old then.) He never wavered. Ever.
  • He was a tenacious protector of his home. You couldn’t stop the barking barking barking. Once he lost most of his hearing … well … he was still the protector. He just didn’t perceive the threats. Like the mail truck, the squirrels, the stray falling leaf …
  • He ADORED his treats. He would get nearly apoplectic when treat time rolled around.
  • He knew how to spit out the food he didn’t want a leave it all over the house.
  • He knew where I was at every moment – followed me around the house. OR he preceded me, creating a potential fall accident.
  • He was always moving – licking, pacing – unless he was sleeping.
  • He snored.
  • He would tuck his head up under my chin and press his little body up against mine. It was so affectionate and endearing.
  • He was a breast man. He loved to sit in my lap and “brundage”. Snort snort.
  • He was happy! Joyful!
  • He was curious, inquisitive. How many times did he stand in a lap with his little head 2 inches from the face and stare into the eyes with this look of total curiosity. Those dark, sparkling eyes were beautiful.
  • He was a spark, a bright light, a star.
  • He was the moon to my earth. The earth to my sun.

I had him put down this afternoon. He had suddenly gotten old. He’d been terminally ill but maintained with medications. Then the cataracts surfaced and bloomed. He couldn’t handle not seeing well. He was confused and frustrated. It was his time.

The veterinarian, Kathy Murphy, and her staff were WONDERFUL. Very understanding and caring. Kathy snipped a lock of his hair for me. I loved his scent. Now I’ll have it when I need a dose.

He’ll live in my heart forever.

Rest in peace, Boy-o.